Rage Duo
by Peach Creek
Summary: Kevin and Sarah (Team Redhead) one-shot. Based on a concept and comic drawn by Tumblr user atinyshine. Go check out her artwork. It's amazing. Sarah and Kevin have a little problem to deal with, but this particular problem doesn't know when to stop talking and things escalate rather quickly. Rated M for language.


It was just a run-of-the-mill incident, a routine "don't fuck with us" reminder, nothing special, but _god_ did it feel good. The rush of adrenaline, a light sweat on the brow, the burn in his muscles; yes, this was just what Kevin needed. It wasn't uncommon for these confrontations to come to blows, but it wasn't common either. Oddly enough, he usually had Sarah to thank when it did happen. Feisty little thing just couldn't keep a lid on her temper. He liked that about her. She was a bit of a loose cannon, but nothing he couldn't handle. Most of the time.

He got one more hit in before she tapped him on the shoulder, tagging him out. He stepped back and took a long swig of water, watching Sarah circle their victim. Her fighting style was very different than his. Where he tended to charge in head first and start swinging, she was far more inclined to lurk, only moving in when the perfect opportunity appeared. She struck like a snake: quickly and without warning. What she lacked in strength (which wasn't much) she made up in ferocity and gleeful determination. Kevin would almost say that she enjoyed this more than he did.

Suddenly, Sarah lashed out. Had he blinked, Kevin would have missed it. Their victim—Kevin couldn't remember his name. Jeremy? Josh? Something like that—doubled over, clutching at his stomach. Sarah's knee jerked up to catch him in the face. His head snapped back. Kevin bit his knuckle and oohed.

"Nice hit."

"Thanks."

They bumped fists as she passed by. She waited for What's-His-Face to catch his breath before striking out again with a kick to the chest. The kid was ready for her this time. He caught her ankle and twisted, flipping her around and slamming her to the ground. He lifted a foot up over her head. A crack to the skull thwarted that plan. Kevin followed through on his swing, admiring the thin string of blood that flung itself from the end of his bat. His form was perfect, as always. He wasn't the star of the baseball team for nothing. He crouched down beside the groaning guy and lifted his chin with the bat.

"It's not nice to hit girls, you know," Kevin said. He wiped the bat on the back of What's-His-Face's shirt. "Well," he continued, "it's not really nice to hit anybody, now that I think about it."

"You hit me," What's-His-Face choked out.

Kevin raised a brow and grinned. "I never said I was nice."

"I know. You're a fucking asshole."

Kevin rocked back on his heels. Was this guy seriously giving him lip right after having his ass handed to him? He looked up at Sarah, catching the laughter dancing behind her eyes. A quick glance-over assured him that she was unharmed. Not even a bit of dirt on her shirt. Chick was tougher than she looked, and it continued to surprise him. She nodded at What's-His-Face, bringing Kevin's attention back to the task at hand.

"You got a lot of nerve, talking shit when you're face down in the dirt," he commented.

"Shut the fuck up, Barr. The only reason I'm down here is because you cheated." What's-His-Face wiped his mouth and grimaced. "Figures that bitch would need a guy to save her ass."

Sarah's face clouded over. She stepped off the curb. Her foot connected with his ribs, one, two, three, _crack! _What's-His-Face cried out and rolled, pressing a hand gingerly to his side. She stood over him and put her foot on that hand, pressing down threateningly.

"I don't need anybody's help, you fucker," she growled. "It doesn't mean a damn thing that I'm a girl. I'll still kick your ass."

He laughed a pained laugh, voice strained. "You don't scare me. You're not much of a girl anyway. I bet you wear fucking training bras, just to make you feel better about yourself."

Sarah's eyes flashed dangerously. Her arms came up to fold across her chest and she shifted her weight forward onto his (probably broken) ribs. What's-His-Face tried to laugh it off, but his smile quickly faded to a frown, face pinched in pain. He gasped and shifted uncomfortably, but she didn't relent. When he cried out, Kevin touched her shoulder. _Enough_, his eyes seemed to say. She scoffed but removed her foot.

"Boys are such wusses," she muttered.

Kevin grinned and elbowed her. He opened his mouth to quip back, but he was interrupted by the guy curled up on the ground.

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you? You might as well be a boy. Is your mom that flat, too?"

Kevin's eyes widened. He must've damaged this guy's brain when he hit him with the bat. There was no other explanation. No one was this stupid. Sarah cocked her head, throwing her hip out and resting a fist on it. Kevin had to admit, she was pretty hot. So what if she didn't have boobs? The rest of her was so curvy. He looked at her and saw nothing but woman, so what was this asshole's problem? Sarah took a few steps forward, standing with a foot on either side of his waist, throwing a little extra sway into her hips as she moved.

"And what kind of boy do you think I am, moron?" she asked.

Kevin shook his head, making "shut the fuck up before she kills you" motions with his free hand, motions that What's-His-Face ignored. Of course he did. He shrugged, trying to subtly shield his sides from her.

"I don't know. Maybe one of those sissy gay boys. Like that dork Double D."

Oh.

Oh, _hell_ no.

Sarah almost couldn't get out of the way fast enough before Kevin was on top of him. Bat tossed carelessly to the side, Kevin threw his form out the window as he pounded away at the face beneath him. When he saw blood on his fist, he stopped and pulled away, shaking his hand out. What's-His-Face staggered to his feet, trying to make a run for it. Kevin sank a fist into his stomach. He doubled over, groaning.

"No one—" Knee to the nose. "—but me—" Elbow to the head. "—gets to call—" Fist to the face. "—him—" And again. "—dork!"

Fist bunched in the fabric of What's-His-Face's shirt, Kevin drew his arm back to deliver a final blow. The fact that What's-His-Face was barely conscious at this point was irrelevant. There was a lesson to be learned here, and he was sure as hell going to learn it. Kevin flexed his fingers, hearing a knuckle or two crack. A grin found its way to his face again. His muscles tensed, prepared to swing forward.

"Kevin Barr!"

Oh, shit. He knew that voice. He would recognize it anywhere. He looked up, face still screwed up in rage, and met the gaze of his boyfriend. Jimmy stood next to Edd, looking vaguely disinterested.

"I thought you were putting forth an effort to curtail such behavior!" Edd snapped. Jimmy giggled. Edd glanced over sharply. "Are you quite done, James?"

Jimmy coughed nervously and looked away. Edd flicked his attention back to Kevin like a whip. His expression said it all, no words necessary.

"Unhand him and collect your things. We're leaving."

Kevin dropped What's-His-Face to the ground and stepped over him, hands held out defensively. "But, babe, he insulted you—"

"No buts!"

Kevin sighed in defeat and straightened his hoodie. He turned back to Sarah and scowled at the grin on her face. "Give me my bat," he muttered.

"Whipped," she teased.

"Hey, shut up."

"Or else you'll tell your Edd?"

He nudged her with his elbow. "You're not funny."

"Come along, Kevin!" Edd wrapped a hand around the redhead's arm and pulled, stalking away without looking back.

Jimmy went to stand by Sarah, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at the bloodied heap on the ground. "So what did this one do?"

Sarah pondered for a moment, tapping her chin with a finger. "You know, I can't even remember."


End file.
